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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1812034
A grave robber gets more then what he was bargaining for.
         Tom is a pale, spidery looking person. His dark greasy hair came down over his gray eyes, and he has a habit of brushing them back. His fingers were long and thin, with a habit of grabbing whatever they latched onto. All in all, Tom is a creepy guy even if he got enough sunlight. He wore a badly tattered suit that hasn’t been cleaned in awhile. Today he was at his kiosk selling his ill-gotten gains from last night. He sold sparkling jewelry, old trinkets, gold bracelets and necklaces, any valuables at a little kiosk in the dark corners of the streets. Tom didn't care he was taking affectionate things from the dead. All he cared about was how much money he received from buyers. What he didn't know was whose grave he dug up last night.
        Last night, he got up stretching and yawning at midnight, to see what valuables he can get from the graveyards. Each night he went to different ones taking the treasures he could make good money on, with his flash light and shovel. Most of the time he found the graves empty of valuables. This would make him angry. With a scowl on his face and hatred in his eyes he would stamp the ground, and swear. He would curse their names for not having anything.
          "Damn you," Tom cursed in a quiet, angry voice. "A whole night wasted you pile of bones, you piece of shit," and shook a clenched fist at the deceased. That night was different. He came across an unreadable grave. It was forgotten through time covered with weeds and tall grass. Departing the grass he read the partial words con...ed ....ch h...ed 1839. Tom wrapped his thin, bony fingers around the handle of his shovel, and began digging up the grave. He relished the sound of his shovel striking earth, and breathing in the smell of the dirt he dug into. The digging took him several hours taking up most of the night. Finally he heard the familiar sound, a dull thud, of his shovel striking the coffin. He brushed his hands across the top to get rid of the last bit of dirt. With only anticipation, no ceremonial pause or grace he opened the coffin. Puzzlement flashed across his face as he looked upon the corpse. The corpse, a female, still had skin, and its eyes. It clung to the bones like a big, thin rag and was gray. The eyes were closed but the skin was so thin you could clearly see the eyeballs were still there. After two hundred years or so she should have decayed. Tom soon forgot all about his puzzlement, and his eyes filled with merriment as he looked at the riches. There were a few jewels that shone in the light of his flashlight, and he couldn't look away from the beautiful luster of gold. A few trinkets of worth were buried among the gold. Unfortunately dawn was a few hours away so with a grin on his face that could curdle milk; he grabbed what he could with greedy fingers and climbed out. With expertise, Tom reburied the grave, and went on his way.
        Back at his kiosk, he sold every item he looted. Because of the money he made he went out to eat, paid rent on his apartment, and still had some left over. His mind was filled with that beautiful image of loot. The more he thought about it the more he wanted more. When he got to his apartment, he went to bed early eager to set out and get more. He set his alarm clock for midnight and went to sleep. While Tom slept he started to dream. He was standing in a glade surround by the forest. The moon was full and the air was chilly. He looked around him but only found a very old woman standing in front of him. She was short, her skin was wrinkled and white, the eyes bulging, and her black hair were like straw sticking out at odd angles. Her long crooked nose was upturned. With distaste written on her face she pointed at him with one long gnarled finger. Without any provocation, his eyes grew wide and he filled up with fear and horror. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms, and a shiver went down his back like an ice cold trickle of water which had nothing to do with the cold air. He turned around to run but everything went dark like the light from a candle got snuffed out. He couldn't see where he was going. Tom tripped on something he couldn't identified, and fell to the forest floor. He tried to squirm and wriggle but something wrapped him up. It first started around his arms and legs. Then he felt it around his throat. He woke up sweating and breathing heavily. His alarm clock showed a minute to twelve. It took a few minutes for him to calm down.
        It was just after midnight when he remembered all that loot. Immediately the dream was forgotten. He smiled in anticipation and his eyes filled with greed as he got ready to go back. He rushed around gathering his flashlight, his shovel, and putting on appropriate clothes. The closer he got to the graveyard his greed grew and grew. When he arrived he was shivering with uncontrollable urges of wanting more. He dug furiously. Sweat was pouring down his face, and he got splinters in his hands from his shovel. Dirt was flying everywhere. Tom was making so much noise if anyone was around they would have easily heard him. Again Tom heard the clear sound of his shovel hitting a coffin. He grasped the edge of the lid and wrenched the lid open. With a smile on his face and a feeling of elation he went to loot the whole thing. Immediately his grin faded. His feeling of elation was replaced by horror. The eyes of the corpse were open and they were the same as in his dream. Tom scrambled out of the grave in a panic dropping his flashlight. Without his flash light he couldn't see where he was going. It was too dark. Tom ran a few steps with a pounding heart and heavy breathing but didn't get very far. He tripped over something and immediately started screaming, and yelling. Tom panicked. Tom fell into something that grabbed at his arms and legs. As he struggled harder the things ripped him to shreds. He felt something wrap around his throat. He struggled viciously, gargling, and gagging trying to draw breath. He soon lay still.
        It has been two weeks since his landlord noticed he has been missing. He called the police so they can investigate Tom’s disappearance. They went to Tom’s apartment and the only thing they noticed was his truck was missing. The search ended at the grave yard Tom was robbing. They fanned out to look for him. One officer waved the others to him. They found Tom strangled to death by black berry vines. His eyes were rolled back; his skin was scratched and clothes ripped from the thorns. The police concluded he was robbing graves because of the shovel next to the hidden grave but his death remained a mystery. The grave Tom dug up was reburied before the police go there.
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